Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tunisia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Glenn Branca to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Cybotron,
FM Einheit,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harmonia,
F. McDonald,
The Remains,
Marmalade,
Visage,
Bauhaus,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
The Cowsills,
the Normal,
Livin' Joy,
Television,
Neil Young,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick May,
Maurizio,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cure,
Pylon,
Boz Scaggs,
Warren Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
The Doors,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ronan,
Blake Baxter,
Theoretical Girls,
Pole,
New Age Steppers,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ossler,
Quadrant,
June Days,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skaos,
Laurel Aitken,
Saccharine Trust,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
Gichy Dan,
Schoolly D,
Black Sheep,
Susan Cadogan,
Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Kurtis Blow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Accadde A,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.